


Poppy

by Enasencca, Nualie



Category: Gloomverse (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, candy is the food of the gods!!!, spoilers for Hobo's real name!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 08:46:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16343639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enasencca/pseuds/Enasencca, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nualie/pseuds/Nualie
Summary: In Petunia's humble opinion, that wasn't your everyday hike through the Amadeus mountains.Spoilers for the Midnight chapter!





	Poppy

**Author's Note:**

> Nualie: Co-writing stuff is fun~ I like how this turned out.

The Amadeus Mountains had always been a secluded place, nature growing wild and untamed, untouched by civilization so far. It’s a wonderful place, true, with beauties aplenty, but that’s not why Petunia likes it so much. (Perhaps it is part of the reason- but not the main one.)

 

The truth is, the mountains are dear to her because that is where she first met Amadeus.

 

* * *

 

 

Ever since she was young, Petunia has loved hiking. She loves finding strange places, loves dipping her bare feet in ponds, and loves bringing home the unfamiliar plants she finds in secluded areas.

 

She likes to think that the mountains love her too. She is no princess— birds don't trail after her, no animal does. But the flowers always bloom brighter when she’s around, and the trees extend their branches as if to shield her from the scorching sun. They’re protective and comforting, so even alone, she never feels like she’s in danger. 

 

Well, until she falls, at least.

 

It’s a stupid mistake— she’s right above a waterfall, and she leans to look at what’s way down below, and the rocks are wet— 

 

She falls. She screams and she falls.

 

Her hands reach out for something to catch herself on-

 

Her fingers slip on the damp cliff, and her nails withdraw caked with mud—

 

Gravity pulls her down, leaving her dizzy and breathless as she braces for impact—

 

.

 

.

 

Someone catches her.

 

She braced herself for the impact, but someone steals her from gravity, shoving her in horizontal motion until they hit a lower cliff, and she finds herself tense in a stranger’s arms. 

 

Pain doesn’t come, but warmth does, so she opens her eyes. Someone is holding her, with a worried look in their red eyes. 

 

“Are you alright?” a soft voice asks, the softest voice she’s ever heard.

 

She squints, winces at the strong light. Her head is spinning- she feels drunk. Not that she has ever drunk alcohol, but she finds herself more sympathetic to those who do now. Her hands are shaking as she fists them into her savior’s shirt.

 

“I’m fine.” She breathes, ribs rattling with every breath.  _ Calm down. _ “I-It’s okay.”

 

Her feet touch ground, but her legs refuse to hold her. She’s more shaken than she thinks she should be, but she did almost die, and she didn’t think of using her hat, she didn’t even have time to  _ react _ …

 

He— her savior is a he— holds her up, murmuring reassuring words. Slowly, her breathing goes back to normal, her legs stop being jelly, but the drunken warmth doesn’t go away. 

 

Once she can stand, he doesn’t back away. She’s grasping at his clothes; he can’t. He hugs her, pats her back, and only then she lets him go, and he, too, sets her free, with a kind smile like he’s going to leave. 

 

…and he will. She doesn’t miss the way his gaze darts to the trees, as if he’s looking for the best way to escape. Petunia isn’t sure why he is so against staying, but doesn’t ask. It would be very impolite to demand answers from someone who had just saved her.

 

Instead, she wraps her arms around herself and takes a good look at her surroundings. They aren’t at the very bottom of the waterfall. He caught her midway. The rocks here are flat enough to walk on— did he leap across the gap? Perhaps the waterfall formed when some of the cliff collapsed, leaving this part intact. 

 

She turns her gaze to him. Her savior is a handsome man, she has to admit; even if his fashion is a bit peculiar for Gloomverse. 

 

He’s much taller than her; he wears white and black and red and muted mauve. His hair is black like the hollyhocks she planted last week, but the tips match his eyes— they’re red like the poppies she found on her way here. His eyes especially strike her. They’re red, they pin her in place— but they’re gentle, like a hearth’s fire. 

 

Likely in his twenties, he seems a little older than her, but he doesn’t wear a hat. 

 

He shifts under her scrutiny, and she averts her eyes. “Ah, my apologies. I didn’t mean to stare. Thank you for saving me,” she babbles. 

 

“It’s alright,” he says, and he sounds like he means it. His voice is smooth and low, like dark chocolate or molten caramel, sweet to hear and thick enough to taste. “I’m just glad you’re alright. That was a huge fall.”

 

She knows it is, but can’t resist looking up anyway. She can’t pinpoint the exact location she slipped from, but she can very well estimate, and the thought of what would have happened if there had been no one to help, no one to catch her—

 

Well. There was no use dwelling on what-ifs.

 

(It doesn’t stop her from feeling a chill run up her back, the phantom touches of a death averted.)

 

“Do you live here..?” she asks, and it’s the stupidest question she’s ever pronounced but it’s already out. Of course not, there’s nothing but vegetation and rocks here—

 

“More or less,” he says, and she has to lift an eyebrow. 

 

“Ah. I… I’m not too good with crowds,” he explains, and laughs it off. She doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, so she laughs along, but she can tell her question embarrasses him. 

 

“I understand,” she reassures. She reaches out and pats his hand, smiling. “Gloomverse is… a colorful place. I can’t say I don’t come here for a break, too.” 

 

They remain silent for a few heartbeats, and she takes in the breathtaking scenery. The apparition of a man, silhouetted against the liquid sky— clouds like strokes of white paint, and the mountains as a backdrop, sharp shadows and gouache of verdure, and the soft glow of snow high above. 

 

“How can I thank you?” she finally asks, because it’s true she’s grateful. 

 

His eyes dart sideways again. She wants to befriend this stranger. 

 

“You don’t have to thank me—” He answers weakly, as if some part of him recognized the futility of denying Petunia the chance to repay a debt. She puts her hands on her hips to stare him to submission, and she sees the moment his determination wilts like a sunless flower. “—but I guess I wouldn’t mind candy.”

 

“Candy?” she questions, perhaps a bit too distracted by his eyes; they almost seemed blue for a second. Like Forget-Me-Nots. It must be the light, or the sky reflecting in his eyes. “That’s it?”

 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with candy!” he says defensively, and laugh bubbles out of her throat at the absurdity of the situation. He pouts, looking sideways as if she was laughing at him instead, but his lips quirk upwards. Just a bit. “Candy is the food of the gods, you know!”

 

“Alright, alright!” She suppresses the rest of her helpless giggles, hiccups with the effort. She has never laughed like this before. It feels like downing sunshine, as if something was taking root in her chest, begging to blossom. “I’ll get you some candy!” 

 

He grins then; it transforms his face, lights it up, and despite his grimy colors, all she can think of is  _ Sunflower.  _ “Thank you! It’s been a while since I had any…”

 

He walks her back to the mountain path she fell from, and they chat all of the way. He won’t talk about himself, but she doesn’t want to pry. It’s fine.

 

“If you want to go back to civilization, just follow the path,” he finally says. Petunia thanks him, and when his eyes dart again, she realizes he’s going to leave.

 

“Ah, wait..! What’s your name?”

 

He’s turned away already, but he stops when he hears her voice. He doesn’t say anything, though.

 

“My name is Petunia,” she encourages. Petunia reaches out for his sleeve and smiles up at him— he’s so much taller than her, it’s ridiculous.

 

He looks at the fingers keeping him prisoner for a moment, contemplative. Then he meets her eyes and smiles back.

 

“It’s Amadeus.”

 

“Like the mountains?” Petunia wants to smack herself.  _ Obviously _ . Why is it that she’s losing her wits to the twin poppies budding in his irises? Get yourself together!

 

“Like the mountains,” he confirms, and gently yanks his sleeve out of her hold. He waves with a friendly smile, and quickly walks away—

 

“Wait! Will we meet again?”

 

He pauses again; she hears her heart beat loud in her ears as he stands there, motionless. Steady. Like the petrified trees in the valley, he seems frozen in time.

 

But he tilts his head back and she swears the poppies in his eyes  _ bloom _ , soft petals unfurling and smoothing themselves out, as he smiles at her with so much warmth that it’s enough to take her breath away.

 

“Sure. You still owe me candy, after all,” he laughs, and the sound is like water rushing through a creek; like the tolling of bells, low and sweet. “Can’t give it to me if we never meet, right?”

 

She stands there and honestly, if she wasn’t gone and lost from the moment she saw his eyes, this would have done her in; his lone silhouette on a dust path, one summer afternoon, backlit by the sun; expression so soft that it refused not to glow. Really, it’s weird, but she can’t really bring herself to mind.

 

The lyrical, run-on sentences of her thoughts should be enough indication of her current emotional state.

 

She swallows, and it takes her a while to find her voice. “Right,” she agrees, and the drunken warmth rises from the depths of her with the force of a geyser, the joyful force of which she’s sure is as close to matching his gaze in intensity as she can possibly muster. “Of course! Where should we meet?”

 

“I— Here is fine. Please don’t jump off waterfalls.” 

 

She laughs nervously. “Of course not.”

 

“Well then.” He passes a hand through his hair. “See you, Petunia.” 

 

He said her name. 

 

Petunia can’t control the soft smile that takes over her lips, but she won’t forget his name, she won’t forget his face. 


End file.
